


Teenage blues

by Maaqss



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Angst, M/M, Misogyny, fueled by homophobia, it goes to the & tag, misogyny everywhere, sexist gay yearning, since this is mostly me clowning them for being toxic than shipping fodder, they're in middle school here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maaqss/pseuds/Maaqss
Summary: Valentine's day proves to be interesting for the kings of misogyny.
Relationships: Kiryuu Touga & Saionji Kyouichi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tfw your gei

Touga has always been quite popular, Saionji can’t help but notice. Especially in days such as Valentine’s, when he’s swarmed by girls who shamelessly shower him with gifts and declarations of love. They’re only thirteen, good grief, it’s not like any of them knows what love is— nor have any hurry finding _their princes_ to get engaged to. He can’t bear the sound of Touga’s smarmy laugh—lately it sounds like he’s always got a cold, but sometimes the hint of a clear velvety voice leaks out, making something like a shudder run down his spine and turn his feet cold. Saionji decides to leave him to his own devices. It’s not like he’d even notice, anyway.

He stomps by the edge of one of the campus’ lakes, hands digging in his pockets. Lakes have a foul atmosphere to them, throwing back at you ugly distortions of your true self. At any rate, it’s not like humans were made to float or frolic in the water, so it’s quite the nonsense to plan get-togethers near them. Of course, he can swim just fine. They’re simply unpleasant, which he concedes suits him just fine right now.

Not like he particularly cares, but he’s never received any chocolate in any previous Valentine’s. Last year, the other kids at the kendo club teased him about it. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with it when you can just buy your own, tailored to your tastes, but they didn’t let up. They took it too far, taunting him about being a loser who couldn’t get any chicks. He didn’t know what to do to make them take it back, so he was about to throw a punch when Touga had intervened, boasting about how no one really had a candle to hold against him. Since when did that shit matter? It’s not like there were any girls worth talking to...

He stops to take a look at himself in the water, receiving back a slightly moss-tinted portrait of his pouty mouth and frowny eyes— all thanks to the algae in it. It really is such a wretched place. Still, he can’t help but to wonder if everyone sees him that way. Maybe that is why no one looks at his direction. Maybe that is why Touga has started prioritizing entertaining random dumbasses with vacuous chit chat over hanging out with him. Suddenly quite displeased with the general outdoors, he starts to rush back to his dorm.

Just as he’s about to enter the building, a barely audible high pitched voice calls out to him. He turns out around and spots her, a vaguely familiar face hidden behind the planter that adorns the path towards the dorms’ entrance. He’s still feeling courteous enough to hear her out, so he approaches her.

“What is it?” he whispers, for some reason.

She gestures to him to follow her to the back of the building, which somehow makes his palms run a little cold. Probably the lingering cool air from winter, although spring always seems to come early at Ohtori. She’s quite short— a good ten centimeters shorter than him, even. Touga has always been taller than him, but these days he’s truly lanky. He would know how to handle this girl smoothly— Saionji wonders if the gap between them will widen much more over time. They reach a spot the girl deems good enough, and she holds out a crimson festive bag that it’s decorated with fairly cute little sketchy hearts of white outlines. 

“This is for you!” She yells rather jarringly.

Saionji is frozen in place, pointing dumbly at his chest: “Me? Are you sure?” 

The girl nods frantically and stammers: “I-I like you!” 

She’s completely red at the face, like a tomato. Saionji awkwardly reaches for the bag.

”Oh… Thank you…” 

The silence that follows is so big and uncomfortable that it makes him feel small. Still, no one has ever told him they like him before; he wishes he could show her some appreciation. His silly clumsy words hardly seem any good reward for her. A thought flashes his mind furtively. Wouldn’t the right thing to do now be to kiss her? The thought makes his stomach churn and his legs tremble, like they’re made of jelly. He has heard it’s normal to feel nervous before your first kiss, but wasn’t it supposed to be exciting too? He feels no such giddiness as he’s hesitantly leaning forward. The girl’s eyes widen, but she closes them gently immediately after, her mouth puckered. He puts the wrong foot forward and trips, clasping at her shoulders to avoid falling. He luckily didn’t hit her with his stupid big head, though the situation is quite mortifying. He shuts his eyes tightly—a certain redhead haunting his eyelids— and their lips barely brush; his jerking embarrassingly at the touch, the tips of their noses squished gracessly. His jaw is quivering so badly he can’t take it anymore, and he runs away without looking back at her, scrunching the bag in his left hand. He hopes he never sees her again.

Saionji closes his bedroom’s door tightly behind him. He plops down on the floor, unceremoniously dropping the bag besides him. His heart is beating sickeningly fast and his mind feels completely clouded. Were kisses supposed to be that unpleasant? Riddled by guilt, he opens the heart-shaped box inside the bag he ruined in his dash towards safety. They’re milk chocolates, which he doesn’t particularly like. They’re too sweet, to make up for the loss in flavor. Embarrassment washes over him— he shouldn’t be looking the gift horse in the mouth. He eats half the box until he feels seriously ill. They’re not especially bad, for milk chocolates, so he can’t figure out why they’re making him feel so bad, like the whole world is spinning around him. He collapses on the floor, feeling like crying. Saionji hopes no one ever finds out about that blight of a kiss, especially _not Touga_. He wouldn’t hesitate to humiliate him for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Valentine's fun outing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mfw my revisions when writing these clowns is mostly punching up the misogyny

It's the weekend after Valentine's, and Touga drops by Saionji's dorm around three pm or so. It wouldn't be a joke to say he hasn't seen him in two days at all, like he just vanished from the face of the earth. Surely he didn't get food poisoned or something before they could drop by the new mall's inauguration. He knocks impatiently at the door, only to be informed by his bleary room mate that he isn't there. 

"Did he not come back after kendo practice?" 

His roommate, a slobbish lanky brunette only a few centimeters shorter than him, shrugs indifferently. "Dunno, was asleep." 

Touga scans what little he can garner of the hovel they call a bedroom from the door frame: the trash can is overflowing with candy wrappers and some kind of red carton, and the usual mess of clothes is sprawled on the floor against the image of Saionji's neatly made bed. 

"Are you leaving now?" The other boy slurs, scratching his stomach. 

Touga scoffs but leaves. Lately, Saionji has been acting all surly and unpredictable. Ditching their plans would’ve been unthinkable for him before— without going too far back, even just the previous month he was still fussing over punctuality and whatnot. Discerning what wretched bee stung his ass sure is a bother. _Teenage blues_ , he muses as he looks for him at the dojo, in case he lingered back. Not only there’s no students left behind, but their coach spots him and chastises him for skipping practice. _Goddamnit, Saionji_.

He looks at the cafeteria, ready to shove Saionji’s face into his food for not waiting for them to eat at the mall. Alas, there’s no sight of him there either. Just where in the world could he be? Had he really gotten ill? He dashes to the school's infirmary, where the nurse is dealing with the case of a split eyebrow from some kiddy fight between freshmen. Still no trace of the little shrimp though. What was he doing, worming his way into hiding? Who did he think he was, making Touga run all over campus like he was some kind of lowly errand boy? It’s not like he couldn’t invite literally anyone else instead of wasting time playing hide and seek with him. He resolves to invite one of the girls who gifted him something for Valentine’s, any of them would do. 

He’s ready to go when he’s gotten a girl wrapped around his arm: a petite one with waist-long, jet-black hair that was just cute enough to be worth showing off. They pass through the lake going over the usual social scripts. At least her hair is lucious, silky at the touch of his fingertips. It somewhat makes up for the nonsense. 

The air around the lake is fresh and lackadaisical, which always makes Saionji’s weird obstinate aversion against them hilarious. Touga had assumed Saionji didn’t know how to swim, so, last summer, he had tested out the hypothesis. The thing about Saionji is that he’s always easy to tip over in order to push him to do what one wants. He hadn’t even needed to throw any of his stuff into the lake, just some light teasing had him stripping off all his clothes to prove him wrong. His skin had gotten somewhat tanned that summer, which suited him well. To Touga’s shock, it turned out Saionji did, in fact, know how to swim. The mystery to his totally logical pond antipathy deepened, and Touga found himself fascinated and perplexed at having found something he didn't yet know about him.

For some reason, the image of the overflowing trash bin back at Saionji’s room pops up in his mind. Touga smirks. Maybe he had finally gotten a date? Between him and his roommate, Saionji is definitely the most likely to have gotten a Valentine’s gift. His usual luck it’s not even due to him being particularly ugly— he looks well enough and has a respectable ranking at the kendo club among the middle school division; he’s on track to join the regular team, he might even end up captain of the team one day. But there’s only so far that can take you when you simply can’t put on a good friendly face for others. When you haven’t climbed high enough. Silly little Saionji. Perking up at the prospect of crashing into his friend’s date at the mall, he rushes his pace. 

Despite having ran through all the dorky places he thought Saionji would visit, he still didn’t run into him at all. The whole day has turned out to be a huge waste of time. He drops his date at her dorm room, making note of never calling her again. The evening has definitely cooled down by now, the dusk having made way for the night almost completely. Fortune is having its way laughing down on him, because that’s when he spots the sulky little shit, leisurely strolling his way back to his dorm. Touga sneaks up his back, throwing his arm around Saionji’s shoulders, thrusting his weight to make him bend forwards. Just before he can open up his mouth, he feels a sharp pain in his ribs. He’s really starting to get stronger.

Saionji glares at him from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn around to see him. It’s irritating.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says flatly.

Touga transforms his wheezing into a flippant laugh swiftly, flicking his wrist to get some hair out of his face.

“Long time no see, old friend!” 

Saionji turns his eyes back to the road and shrugs. “I was busy.” 

“Oh, you were? May I humbly ask with what, pray tell?” Touga sing-songs, crowding him playfully. Saionji pushes him back brusquely, hastening his pace.

“It’s none of your business,” he spits out. They reach the usual fork in their paths. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Stop following me!” 

The sheer contempt in his voice takes Touga aback. He watches, still, as Saionji disappears into the night. It stings awfully, like rejection never has. Seriously, what was his problem? Only the worms under his feet understood him. He makes a mental note to charge him for the wasted time today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing an embarrassing amount of clown shit that I might or might not use as a base to work on a longer multi-chapter project, only time will say. Figured I didn't need to hold onto these though. Any typos might disappear in the span of a few days lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Meg, for writing the drabble that inspired this and for providing much appreciated and treasured feedback. Always a joy to share my writing with you.


End file.
